They may not care, but they are enjoying themselves

As Harry’s lips met Cassiopeia’s, Pansy’s eyes fluttered closed. A soft moan escaped her, her hands instinctively seeking the firmness of Harry’s chest. Cassiopeia’s tongue moved in a seductive rhythm with his, their mouths a seamless dance, while Pansy’s fingers grazed down Harry’s torso, her nails leaving a whisper of a trail along his skin. Harry’s hands, firm and sure, slid over Pansy’s hips, pulling her closer. Meanwhile, Cassiopeia’s hands climbed the breadth of his back, her fingers curling gently into his shoulders, holding him as if to anchor their shared intensity.

Harry’s touch descended, tracing the curves of Pansy’s waist before drifting lower to caress the softness of her thighs. Pansy’s eyes fluttered open, dark with desire, her lips parting with a trembling whimper. Behind him, Cassiopeia’s hands slowly explored his back, her fingers mapping the taut lines of his muscles before settling on the swell of his hips, her grip firm and teasing.

As Harry’s hands explored Pansy’s thighs, Cassiopeia’s fingers tightened, her nails brushing his skin with a deliberate pressure that sent shivers racing through him. Pansy’s gaze never wavered, her expression molten, as her breath hitched at the sensation of Cassiopeia’s hands moving with purpose. Her nails trailed across Harry’s chest, pausing now and then as if savoring the texture of him.

Cassiopeia shifted, her lips curving into a wicked smile as she broke away from Harry’s kiss. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her voice a sultry whisper. “I know exactly where you belong,” she purred, guiding him with a deliberate touch. Pansy watched intently, her breath catching as Cassiopeia’s movements revealed both skill and confidence. The air between them grew heavy, charged with anticipation and unspoken promises.

Harry found himself drawn in, the warmth of Cassiopeia’s body and the inviting curve of her legs coaxing him closer. For a moment, the sensation of Pansy’s softness pressed against his back made him pause, her gentle hum grounding him before his focus returned to the irresistible pull of Cassiopeia. Her touch guided him, the sensation electrifying as she enveloped him in a heat that threatened to consume them both.

A low groan escaped Harry as he moved in rhythm with her, his grip on Cassiopeia’s hips tightening as the intensity built. She leaned her head back, surrendering to the pleasure, her breaths coming in broken sighs. Behind him, Pansy pressed closer, her hands roaming over his chest, her nails grazing the ridges of his muscles. Her soft whimpers blended with the melody of Cassiopeia’s moans, the harmony of their voices echoing in his ears.

Cassiopeia’s legs curled around him, drawing him deeper into her embrace. Her grip tightened, her nails leaving fleeting crescents on his skin as her body arched, trembling with the nearness of release. Harry’s pace quickened, the tension coiling in his core as he edged closer to his own breaking point.

As their shared climax neared, Cassiopeia’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto Harry’s with a gaze that seemed to pierce through the haze. Her breath hitched as her body arched one final time, shuddering with the **** of her release. She slid away from him slowly, her body trembling with aftershocks, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath.

Harry remained still for a heartbeat, his body taut with residual energy, until Pansy’s soft touch drew him back. She slid in front of him with a knowing smile, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was both tender and charged. “It’s my turn now,” she whispered, her voice velvet and desire, promising more to come.